JUBILEE
by cannibalcoast
Summary: - Draco finds himself upon a new room - he also finds something new. Something he's never experienced before. HarryDraco slash. Don't like, don't read.
1. The Discovering of Potter

Hello! Sugardusted here~ Well, I've never written a fanfiction before, so please don't be too harsh. Thankyou for reading!~

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Draco itched his head. He really didn't know how to get out of this without severely getting into trouble. He gaped up at the massive, ornate wooden door in front of him. It was golden brown, and it had a sort of noble air to it. It had gorgeous lion carvings on it, lilies, all the sorts of things a nobleman would seem to have on one's door. Draco just remembered looking at blank empty wall, turning round, hearing a creak and then turning back round. His mouth hung in a massive "o" shape, as he wasn't expecting to see such a door appear in front of him. Well, this was Hogwarts, after all. Draco shrugged. He then took a few slow steps towards the door, hand going near the handle but withdrawing. He wanted to. But he couldn't.

The only thing was the temptation. The biting, itching temptation to open that door.

And, against all of the Slytherin reason in his head, he took the invite.

Draco's smooth, slender hand clenched around the silver gilded handle, and he nervously pulled the heavy door open.

What he had in mind to see when he opened that door was not this.

He had not been expecting to see someone huddled in the corner of the room. Especially not someone crying their eyes out, face a bright, raw, beetroot red from the stricken tears that dropped down from their face.

Especially Harry Potter.

Draco immediately scooted to the corner of the door, where Potter could not see him. He had a minute to marvel at his surroundings ; a vast area of dark, silent room. It was extremely dark. The curtains were ripped to shreds, but still lazily hung off the window frame. A massive double bed adorned most of the room, with its dusty coloured gold and red prints wearily trying to stand out against all the cobwebs and dust. Potter had his arm slung over a tiny cabinet in the tiniest corner of the room next to the bed. He was still crying. Draco glanced down as soon as the crying noise had stopped. He peered at Harry quizzically ; Harry was motionless. Until he rolled over, exposing his face.

He was asleep.

Draco's eyes visibly widened, as he took in the view. Harry Potter, sleeping right in front of him. He watched as his chest heaved up, and down rythmically. His raven-coloured hair was stuck to his face - strands loose everywhere. Potter's face was that of an angel - smooth, yet sharp. He had taken his glasses off previously, so his eyelashes were fluttering under the infulence of sleep. And those lips ; oh, those lips. There was only one word to be able to describe them, and that was -

Delectable.

Utterly delectable. That pink hue, with a tint of red, the plumpness of them, Draco wanted it, he hungered for it - he needed it, he couldn't --

Wait.

Draco, Potter's absolute _nemesis_, wanted to....touch him? Kiss him? Even hold him?

No. This was an outrage. Draco _was not _gay. He shook his head, and stamped his feet.

This seemed to rouse Potter, and he moaned in his sleep, and his lips parted. Draco growled with want. This _was not happening. Seriously. _Draco glanced to the left, and his eyes thinned. He sighed.

Potter might as well have a sign on his back, saying, "Please fuck me. Right now."

Before he decided he woul _seriously _regret this, Malfoy took one hesitant step forward. He was closer to Harry - and his loins were already on fire.


	2. As something interesting happens

Malfoy was extremely close to Potter. Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Boy Who Saved The World, and he was within kissing reach.

Well, maybe snogging reach. Actually, Draco preferred to think of it as devouring. _Devouring that angelic face;_

Draco reached over to cup Potter's face gently, as not to stir him - the thrill of touching him was too intense - Malfoy's skin _burned _at the slight sensation of touching Potter.

He traced the ever-faint lines of what fifteen years of war had done to his face, the smooth lines that unfolded when Draco pressed them. The war had left Potter in a slight depression, constantly flinching at every sudden movement ready for action. Potter was ever so quiet, and seemed so dull. It seemed that the war had really given him a turn for the worse. He was a war-hardened man. Malfoy smirked.

Draco dipped his head gracefully, and proceeded to graze his tongue ever so slightly against Potter's warm cheek.

_Oh, god;_

It felt so perfect, so right- did Draco ever have a right to touch such heavenly property? - he didn't know, he only explored, touching _every godamn inch because he could _of Potter's face, tracing it, feeling it, wanting it, _needing it, gotta have him, need, need, need-_

Then his tongue ran over Potter's slightly parted lips. Draco slid his tongue inside Potter's unsuspecting mouth, and kissed him ever so _ugh, heaven, utterly- _lightly so he wouldn't rouse Potter. Potter breathed out a soft moan, and stirred slightly, That seemed to send jolts all the way to Malfoy's cock, waking up uncontrollable nerves - _was this disturbing?_ It was like kissing God. Potter's lips were so soft, just as he'd imagined them to be, the shape perfectly fit against Draco's, _ohmygod, ohmygod, I'm kissing Harry bloody Potter, ohmygod-_

And then he felt Potter kiss back.

Draco completely froze for a minute, absolutely motionless whilst Potter's parted lips slowly caressed his, seemingly wanting, needing more. This was all probably a fucking joke, and Potter and the fucking Golden Trio could have a right old fucking laugh at him. Draco clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see Potter's face, his emotion-

And then he looked. It was like looking into a whirlpool of jade, the gradients of all greens swirling around into an orb, circling a round, black pupil.

"Nn..nngh."

Draco's eyes filled to the brim with salty tears, tears that he had not realised he was holding back. He wanted Potter _so badly, he had to-wanted to, _so badly, _it hurt._

It hurt.

Then he began sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and tears flowing everywhere, it was pathetic, really _for a Malfoy-disgraceful_.

Harry looked at this face of an angel, crying _for him? _It was just... Harry could not put it into words. The smooth porcelain face _that was on his only a tick ago _was screwed up; hurt, confused. Tears were flowing profusely from those grey eyes _those eyes - they're still gorgeous when he's crying - _they trickled down his cheek, and stopped at his chin. They then proceeded to drop onto his collarbone, _ever so slowly-_. Harry took this moment upon himself to do something he'd never thought he'd do.

He rose his hand, and brushed it against Malfoy's cheek. Malfoy made a small whimpering noise, and looked at Harry as if he'd just hung a dead baby up in front of his eyes. _Seriously, am I that terrifying? I've seen people less scared when they were facing Voldemort._ But Harry's eyes only grew softer and more caring the more he stared at Malfoy.

_Hmph. He's shaking._

Harry trailed his hand from his cheek all the way to his cheekbone, then his eye. Harry languidly stroked the crease of Malfoy's eye, to soothe him. Malfoy quickly shut his eye and flinched, as if Harry would now punch him and send him on his merry way.

Malfoy waited. He was waiting for Potter to just punch him, _get on with it already-_

He silently wished -_feverently hoped for- _that the place where Potter's touch rested did not burn his skin so. It was sending his thoughts into all directions, causing Malfoy to shiver with want. It burnt, oh _god _it burnt. _And if these inppropriate thoughts didn't stop immediately-_

It dawned on Draco, then, right there. That was it. Yes, that was it. Potter was just standing in for sympathy. He didn't really care about Draco's feelings _and is probably questioning whether I have some _and his hero complex was coming alive, he just wanted to help Draco, not to _care-_

It seemed as though Malfoy did not understand Harry's motives.

Harry frowned and glared intensly at Malfoy. His eyes were boring into Harry's, full of so many mixed emotions _gorgeous, fuck, _Harry really didn't think he could control himself any longer. It was time to throw in the towel.

Harry tightened his grip on Malfoy's face, and his knuckles went white - _prepare yourself, Malfoy-_

"Draco."

Draco's eyes widened, until it seemed like those grey orbs could not possibly get any wider. Did..did Potter just say his name? Fuck's sake. If that's all he did, then why had Draco's bones suddenly turned to fluid and refused to move? _fuckfuckfuck, this is bad, he might find out that I-_

And then suddenly, Potter's lips were crushed against Draco, throwing him down onto the floor, strong hands gripping Draco's wrists. He was pinned to the floor, being kissed _devoured _by a maniac _a fucking god_. Seriously, if Potter didn't stop _that instant _- oh, who the fuck was he kidding? Draco went lax in Potter's grip, and kissed back with almighty force.

Potter's tongue was here, there, and everywhere, finding sensitive spots that even _Draco _didn't know about. _My god, he's licking the back of my throat-_

Potter moaned, and nibbled Draco's bottom lip, sending rushes of pleasure home. Draco really was starting to get a bit breathless now, he needed air, and he needed it now-

And then Potter ground his hips against Draco's crotch, practically purring into Draco's mouth. His mind just shattered - all he could feel were the jolts of euphoria shocking his body into movement.

Harry didn't know what the fuck he was doing. Seriously. But seeing Draco practically writhe against him, moaning, whimpering, it did things to him.


End file.
